


Ultrasounds Have Lots of Uses

by BellaKatrina



Category: Blindspot (TV)
Genre: Bored Nurse, F/M, Full Moon, Humor, Medical Humor-Drama, Owww, Poor Patterson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 15:09:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20968592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellaKatrina/pseuds/BellaKatrina
Summary: It's a slow night at the ER, that is until a man comes running in screaming for help. A big gingery, bearded guy, he's carrying a blonde who's moaning and sobbing her eyes out. Okay, yeah, maybe the nurse shouldn't have been complaining about the lack of work, because it's apparently caught up with her.





	Ultrasounds Have Lots of Uses

Yawning, Molly works on her sudoku; it's the first time she can remember working the ER desk on a full moon night and the place _not_ being overrun. She's not a superstitious sort by nature, but she has _seen Things._ Things, with a capital T and a heavy inflection when said out loud. The full moons tend to bring out all the crazies.

However, the night has been incredibly _slooooooooow_. They've only had three patients come in over the last four hours: sporty kid with broken arm and a bitch of a mother, old geezer with a pepperoni pizza addiction and "heart pains" that turned out to be acid reflux, and a dumbass man in the midst of learning not to eat convenience store sashimi the hard way.

If it wasn't for the fact that Dr. Hot Ass – not his real name, but Molly does not care in the least little bit – might come through and she does _not_ want to miss _that _gloriousness, she'd put her head down on the desk and nap. He's on call, so it's a possibility. Her phone gets zero bars in this part of the hospital, so she can't even waste time on Twitter or Instagram. She's not sure if she's _ever_ been this bored before.

Before she can contemplate it much, a man comes running in screaming for help. A big gingery, bearded bastard, he's carrying a blonde who's moaning and sobbing her eyes out. Okay, yeah, maybe she shouldn't have been bitching about the lack of work, because it's apparently caught up with her.

"Sir?" She tries to draw his attention. "What's wrong?"

"Fix her!" He screeches, holding out his arms like he thinks she's strong enough to hold anything larger than a month-old baby. She's not. Her purse is too much some days.

Instead, she points to one of the wheelchairs pushed up against the wall. "Put her in one of those, and let's get some basic info so we can get started." She brings up the patient input form on her computer. "Name?"

"Roman." He yelps as the lady apparently starts squeezing down on his hand. "Can you just fix her first and we'll do this afterwards? Give her some pain killers or _something_!"

"In a minute." Molly dutifully types in 'Roman' into the last name text box. "Birthday?" She's not about to start dispensing meds to random people off the street. That's a sure-fire way to get canned. Besides, she has no way of knowing if she's dealing with someone with a low pain tolerance that just needs aspirin or the toughest woman in the state who honestly needs oxy or fentanyl.

Ms. Roman's breath hitches, and she hisses in pain. "Ow, ow, ow, it's getting _worse_, son of a _bitch_."

The man snarls. "Get her some help _now_." He pauses for a second, then adds "If it makes a difference, she's an FBI special agent. _Help her_!" He waits for another for a few seconds then adds on a belated "please?"

Assuming he's telling the truth, it does make a slight difference; she knows she's not dealing with a total wuss now. The FBI women all tend to be a lot tougher than they look. Molly looks at the two of them, the way the woman's curling into a fetal position in the wheelchair, hunched over to the right, the tears and redness of her cheeks, and decides the rest of the input information can wait. She's supposed to stay at her desk and let another nurse come get patients, but that's on normal nights with lots of activity. If she takes them into the first exam room, she'll still be able to hear if anyone comes in. She gets up from her chair, and grabbing the wheelchair handles, directs them back into the restricted area.

She grabs some gloves and a stethoscope and starts the examination, asking questions about the pain location, level, and duration as she does. It helps rule out a lot of options, but she's still left with some bad possibilities. Molly quickly debates the pros and cons of sending Ms. Roman for an MRI or paging Dr. Hot Ass, but decides there's one or two things she can quickly do to help get a faster diagnosis. "Okay, so I want to do an ultrasound now, it's fast and it will only hurt a little bit and I'll give you more pain killers after, I promise. You okay with that?"

"An ultrasound?" The guy sounds taken back. "Like when Jane was pre…" He goes a deathly pale, and Molly's suddenly worried she's about to have two patients.

"Pre… pre… pre…" He croaks, his eyes growing wider with each sound. He glances back and forth between the two of them. "But _condoms_!" He says weakly, sounding utterly betrayed, then slumps to the ground. 

Molly's fairly sure he's just fainted, and if he has, she has to give him a 10 of 10 on that one because it was a textbook-perfect beauty of a swoon, but she does check to make sure he's still breathing and all that jazz. Just as she's certain she'd be fired for handing out all the fun pain killers all willy-nilly, she's fairly sure that letting a patient's family member croak in an exam room without even trying to help him will get her kicked out on her ass too. Pulse steady, good breath sounds, yeah, he's just passed out. She decides to just leave him there and focus on the woman instead, but she does make a mental note to tell Nancy that they've officially had their first full moon crazy of the night when she gets a chance.

Passing the ultrasound wand over the woman's side, Molly heaves a sigh of relief when she spots the kidney stone. Just to be sure, she checks the appendix and gallbladder, and they both look clear. Yep, just a kidney stone.

She's still going to page Dr. Hot Ass, though. He'll need to sign off on the diagnosis, and she has a feeling that he'll manage to have both her and her patient feeling a lot better with very little effort on his part.


End file.
